Chapter 19: Those Who Get Hit Never Forget (I)
"No."
Dante was just sitting there, watching the fight broadcasts. That Rubbem surprised him. He was fast, strong, and didn't use any clumsy attacks. He had sharp technique with the sword, strong fencing focused on parries.
Clearly, he had trained a lot to reach that level of movement. And his feet were quick, sliding with grace, but his legs anchored firmly to the ground to avoid going beyond what was necessary.
"Who trained this guy, Dimitri? I see why he's one of the best in this type of fight. He doesn't show any apparent weakness." Dante straightened in his chair and continued watching. "He has solid defense, knows how to use his ability efficiently, and the sword he stole does the job of attacking fluidly."
"I did what I thought was necessary for him to gain some fame."
Dante couldn't help but be impressed. Dimitri had created a little monster.
"What do you think will happen if I go out there?" Dante asked, turning to him. "Do you think I have a chance against someone you've trained for so long?"
"Dante." Dimitri walked around the chair and sat next to him, looking at the screen and pointing. "Robbem is a great fighter. I made sure he never showed a flaw. I always pushed him to the extreme so he'd never fear an enemy. But today, I want you to make him feel fear."
Both of their smiles grew.
"Is this a request from a friend or an ally?" Dante asked.
"From a friend."
Dante accepted the request eagerly.
"Then I'll show him why the older ones should be feared."
He was gradually getting used to calling himself a true Veteran. The idea was fun because it justified his actions, and insulting the younger ones was always more entertaining.
And he would do whatever it took to destabilize Robben. He had stolen a weapon from Dimitri, so he would take it along with his pride and dignity. It didn't matter who he was, who his sponsor was, who his Officer, Lieutenant, or Captain were—Dante would make him understand what loyalty meant.
Dante climbed into the ring, cheered by some, while others questioned his real reason for being there. His age, his way of walking, even his clothes—they didn't want to see an old man being forced to spit blood and be carried out.
His steps grew louder as he approached the center. When he arrived, he saw a man on the other side preparing. It wasn't Robben yet. He had to fight at least three times to have a chance to challenge someone.
He stepped into the ring with dozens of voices around him. The man was Vera Soul, the Wall Sergeant. Strong, athletic, with a challenging look. Dante stared at him and smiled maliciously.
"Let's see how long you last," he said openly. "I'll have to hold back a bit."
The referee climbed into the ring and stood between them.
"Here's the deal, you bastards. The simulation is meant to test you in open terrain. Use what you know to finish the other off. No rules, understood? Let's make this a show. Come on, fist bump and let's start."
They did, and then moved apart. Two doors opened, shining white. It reminded Dante of the simulation door he used against James Rodd. He stepped through without hesitation and emerged in a vast stone field, with ruined bleachers and shattered walls. The sky was cloudy, and the wind was a little colder than on the other side.
"It's more real than I imagined." He searched for Vera Soul. The Soldier was sitting on top of a broken tower, sword in hand. "Ah, there you are, kid. This makes it easier, you know? You might have had a chance if you had hidden your presence and tried a more indirect approach."
"You talk a lot for an old man."
Dante stopped and glared at him.
"That was rude. Well, I hope you can forgive me for that."
He dragged his sole across the rocky ground, and his Muscle Energy percentage increased. The friction caused a 1% boost, and he converted it, creating a bluish energy around his skin. And he took a step.
Vera's eyes widened, and he jumped back when he saw Dante's fist slicing where his throat would have been. He was about to drop to the ground when he saw the old man's leg coming down on his chest. He flew at high speed and crashed into the rocks.
The smoke created a cover for the spectators. Dante landed where Vera had been before and waited.
"A shame."
The crater caused by the blow disrupted Vera Soul's movements. He was stuck between the rocks, unable to breathe properly. His body started turning into white flakes until it completely disappeared.
Dante stared at his body but didn't turn white. "So, this is how it works. I win and wait for another."
Outside, Dimitri watched the fight from one of the bleachers. He didn't even know how to express himself when one of the gamblers approached. He was still open-mouthed, holding a silver coin.
"Hey, Mr. Dimitri. You won three silver coins from the fight." The man pushed him. "Who do you want to bet on now?"
"Of course, I'll bet on the old man," he said, handing over the money. "His name is Dante, alright? Don't forget that. I'll bet all four silver coins on him. And anyone who says I'm stupid, well..."
Laughter filled the air. Everyone knew Dimitri, even the sponsors. He always spoke with confidence, but was never taken seriously after being replaced by Command. Now, he was betting again, after years, on an outsider that no one was sure what he could do.
The game was dirty. The further you went, the more competitors would know your ability, your fighting style. But there were some in the crowd watching Dante with a sinister gaze.
"He took Vera down in two hits." Lieutenant Micael sat hidden among the civilians. "Officer Rutteo didn't mention what his ability is, sir."
Captain Hermes responded from the communicator:
"Keep analyzing. I want to know why Dalia wants this guy so badly on her squad. She's not going to steal another gem for herself that easily."
"Yes, sir. I'll keep an eye on him."